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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582962">Once Upon A Midnight Crow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProphetessMinty/pseuds/ProphetessMinty'>ProphetessMinty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Dawning 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Day 3: Dearest Wish, Deception, Destcember 2020 (Destiny), Destiny 2 | Forsaken, Destiny 2 | Last Wish, Destiny 2 | Season of the Hunt, Destiny lore references, Dream vs. Reality, F/M, Gen, Poems and Rhymes, Riven-Mara, The Dawning (Destiny), Truth vs. Lie, Wall of Wishes, Wrathborn Hunt, corrupted wishes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:40:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582962</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProphetessMinty/pseuds/ProphetessMinty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Uldren Sov unwittingly makes a wish that he will never see come to life. Riven bestows a curse that takes on a hideous form. The Crow knows nothing save the fact that wishes and curses are two sides of the same coin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Dawning 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Wish</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I do not own Destiny or any part of the franchise; all rights and ownership belong to Bungie.</p><p>A/N: This story will take on a different flavor/theme than I am used to writing/maintaining in my stories. It's meant to be conceptually disorienting for the main character (Uldren) while alluding to the fact that there is more going on than he presently understands. </p><p>For those of you follow my work, it'll definitely have the same vibe as "A Different Morn" with the Ahamkara fragment when it speaks. Just even more pronounced and poem-like.</p><p>The theme is built around the "Day 3: Dearest Wish" Destcember 2020 prompt. </p><p>Enjoy!</p><p>~ProphetessMinty</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Once Upon A Midnight Crow</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>(Part 1)</strong>
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>If ye cometh to the secret place</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Where a wall of wishes sits effaced</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>There lies an emblemed interface </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Of fifteen realities, awaiting embrace</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>If ye cometh to the dragon</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Woe to them hungering for desire</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>A twist of fate may bring wish-wyrms’ fire</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Thy situation will always turn dire</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>When ye cannot separate truth from liar</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>If ye respondeth to the dragon</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Be quick to listen and slow speak</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>For thy wish may be given a tweak</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>If true treasure is what ye seek</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Consider the havoc a whim could wreak</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Beware the Dragon, O Brother mine</em>
  </strong>
</p><hr/>
<p>Mara’s soft hands were entwined with his like fastened knots woven together by the string of fate. As they raced along a beaten path unaccompanied by guard or Queen’s Wrath, Uldren serving as her protector, they laughed with giddy antics like sneaking children. Snow white hair filled his vision, reminding him of dense, winter flurries as they danced in the night. In the wake of their gentle flaps, they left behind an aroma of flowery soaps and fresh hyssop.</p>
<p>An adoring smile blossomed upon the Prince’s lips as his dear sister pulled him along with a Siren’s call on her breath. He was unsure where Mara was taking him, but she was in an amicable mood—a playful one at that. Though a blaring alarm was sounding in the back of his mind, Uldren did his best to ignore it. Why should he receive her skeptically? This was his sister, his other half, and their time spent together was short lived like the Divalian Mists they were traveling through.</p>
<p>“Where are you taking me, Sister?” he chuckled, squeezing her hand tightly.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Follow along and heareth mine song.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Listen to none other, loyal Queen’s-Brother.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“Very well,” he smirked, “just…slow down.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Time waxes thin and we cannot give in</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>To many a reason besmirched in truth and treason</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“Why do you always speak in riddles?” Uldren asked playfully.</p>
<p>Mara shot a glance behind her shoulder that said everything, yet nothing.</p>
<p>The Prince frowned forthwith. He disliked many things, but this one thing he loathed. She always knew how to get under his skin and control the moment. To manipulate the outcome and him to her carefully crafted behest. If Uldren was a leaf, then Mara was a gale. Together, they could usher in the changing seasons, with beauty and import. Yet most often, the Queen was isolated and as independent as the wind. Her barest of whims, sent him in blustery upheaval and there was nothing he could do save for going with the flow.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>We must reach our destination, across this dreaming creation</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Before the night returns to day, and our objective fades away</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Uldren’s fiery, citrine eyes dimmed as he reminded himself that Mara’s authority should remain absolute and unquestioned. Ignoring his momentary disappointment, Uldren steeled himself, and affixed a stoic expression upon his pale, Awoken face. Though his spirit felt disarrayed for he did not understand the mind of his Queen, he would listen regardless of his limited perspective. It was times such as this that Uldren felt he would grow closer to Mara yet, but he found himself quickly disillusioned as she was truly leagues away from him.  </p>
<p>The Prince quieted into a docile reserve, hesitant to ruin the moment, and let Mara lead the way. Despite the rocks he stumbled over, the plenteous hills he climbed, or the downward sprints he leapt, Uldren held on. He did not want to be left behind or miss out on the opportunity to share in a secret with his beloved sister. So, he pressed himself beyond the point of discomfort and furious lungs.</p>
<p>There were times they went so fast he was unsure if they had somehow flown because of the blasts of evening wind that beat at his greying hair. Whatever it <em>was</em>, their swift escapades were near impossible. Neither of them could fly. What a silly notion.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Maketh thy journey in steady haste and follow the set pace</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Let us pass through those steeple gates and see what awaits</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>The time is of the essence as I desire thine unfailing presence</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“You have it, my Queen,” Uldren promised.</p>
<p>As they came upon the grandiose double doors imbedded in rock, Mara let go of his hand and raced ahead with an echoing laugh. Uldren let her go, as he came to hunch forward with hands on his knees working to catch his breath. The Awoken Prince could not remember the last time he ran like that, if ever at all. He felt dizzy and near to collapse when a pair of pale blue hands took his into theirs. Looking up, Uldren’s fiery, citrine eyes beheld Mara’s glowing blue nebulae. A flirtatious smile was on her lips like a dangerous secret, revealing gleaming pearly whites.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>There is no rest for aching bones, I know thou wouldst never cause me to postpone</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Not much further now to tread, our resting place is overhead</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Uldren wordlessly acquiesced as he stood upright. He could hear his own blood swishing about in his ears like a war drum and he grasped his heaving chest. Though he thought that perhaps his heart might explode, he trod ahead with Mara at his side.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>O Brother mine, isn’t night divine?</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Crossing over the threshold of the gate, Uldren and Mara came into a steepled foyer much like a chapel. While the walls soared overhead, alcoves carved in the images of devout ladies flickered with warm light cast by crystal sconce. As Mara’s soft hand slipped out of Uldren’s calloused one, he watched her jump over a raised platform. With a flick of her hand, a trap door opened outward from the bodice of a hewn maiden and without a word, Mara climbed up into the passageway.</p>
<p>Uldren was next to do the same.</p>
<p>From there, they climbed upward through a geode tunnel the color of amethyst. Every inch of natural crystal appearing as polished and reflective as a looking glass. Even the smallest source of light brightened their way in refracted glory. Where Mara stepped or jumped with casual grace, Uldren mimicked with unwieldly prudence. They did this until they made it into an old sanctum called the “<em>Tower of Opened Eyes</em>”. Passing up the timeworn stairwells and paths, they headed off course and vaulted over dark pools of water, taking care to mantle onto thin outcroppings dimly lit by luminescent flora.</p>
<p>As they hurdled over the last ledge, four in total, they climbed up a rocky three-step staircase. Upon the last step about half of the Prince’s height, he swung a leg up and rolled forward onto his back. The stone was cold but refreshing to his warm and sweaty limbs. Opening his eyes, Uldren chuckled as he witnessed a confused expression affix itself onto his dear sister’s face. Mara stood over him with sovereign poise, not an ounce of weariness upon her countenance. Her glowing eyes became that much more humorous to him as her brow arched upward.</p>
<p>“What am I doing, you ask, dear sister?” he interpreted aloud, still chuckling. “Trying to live and breathe.”</p>
<p>With an upward wave of the hand, Mara left him and walked on.</p>
<p>Groaning, Uldren stumbled onto his feet and quickly realized that finding his equilibrium was becoming harder yet. Weariness was knocking at the door, craving desperately to overcome him. Yet, he continued to fight it despite the prickly sensation of warning in his gut.</p>
<p>What Mara asked of him, that would he do.</p>
<p>Even if it killed him.</p>
<p>At the end of the tunnel, Uldren walked into a dead-end room with his jaw nearly hanging. In front of him was an impressive wall with circular panels, five-by-four, fastened thereon. Mara paced about the large room like she was on a simple stroll, though something seemed to be on her mind. Closing his mouth, the Prince could not help but grin. Mara was Mara…to a fault.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Stand not there petrified, come hither to mine side</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>This place is full of hidden riches, and unspoken wishes</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Uldren walked toward Mara, reaching out for her though she reciprocated not. He had not missed the way she turned away from him with blasé disregard. A flash of hurt zapped him to the core, lancing him like the crack of a whip. Her narcissistic tendencies and lack of empathy always hurt him, and she knew it. Mara could tear him asunder with a word and he would cease to exist. Perhaps, this was why he always chased after her. She was the sun and he the moon; doomed to revolve in the same song and dance where he would never light up her world as she did his.    </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>I want your opinion unrestricted by mire </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>If it were thy wish, what would thou desire?</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“Wish?” Uldren asked with deep confusion. “What do you mean? It isn’t like you to <em>wish</em> for things, my Queen. You have but to speak and it’s yours.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>This wall, dear brother, tis a magnificent tool</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>To neglect its use would be the act of a fool</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Uldren quieted, taking in her words and the spectacle before him. “What are the rules, then? How many—or little—wishes can one make? What are the words one speaks?”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Fifteen at most, but I seeketh only one</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>I require your counsel, that it may be second to none</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Speak plainly, relieve me of mine current anguish </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Tell me, what is thine dearest wish?</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Uldren stood as still as a statue as he deliberated within himself. There were many things he desired throughout his life. The ability and capacity to do all things well, especially in his station as Queen’s-Brother. He was unconcerned with wealth, though he lived in plenty. As he played with several ideas, Uldren knew of only one true desire in which he danced around most of his life. It was to be closer to his sister—his idol. To love and be loved by the only bit of family he had left and to know that he had purpose.</p>
<p>Outside these simplistic desires, nothing held a candle.</p>
<p>“I wish…,” he mumbled, looking to the floor. Mara’s hand reached out, grabbed his chin, and pushed his head up. Uldren gulped, his mouth drying with concern as he stared into Mara’s nebulous gaze. As he did, the world began to dim all around her as if powerful blinders cut off his distractions.</p>
<p>“My dearest wish,” Uldren tried again, “is to be by your side and you by mine. To know purpose and that I matter.” Mara’s eyes glowed brighter than starlight as a toothy smile spread across her lips. That smile-turned-evil-grin was in possession of knowledge far beyond Uldren’s current understanding.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>For thou advice, I thank thee</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>O Sleeper Mine</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Mara let him fall to the floor as she walked forward with an arcing hand and symbols on the wall shone as patterned beacons. The Prince’s knees buckled beneath him as he sank to the floor, sapped of strength and life. In all his regal vestige, he began crawling on the floor like a starved beggar. His head began to ache fiercely as the room began to spin and darken. Fear and confusion struck him as the lights on the circular panels began to flash. Their images were blurred and before he could focus to discern their likeness, the world around him faded away.</p>
<p>As the Prince came to, startled as if escaping a nightmare, he sat up in the cockpit of his Ceres Galliot. Everything inside was sparking and on fire, smoking fumes causing him to sputter and choke. The alarms were blaring, echoing in his head, as he held hands over his ears. Slamming the side of his fist down on the eject button, Uldren unhatched the dome of his starfighter and jumped out.</p>
<p>Gasping for desperate breaths like a fish out of water, Uldren fell to his knees. The purely unadulterated air was like mana from heaven as it was cool and a boon to his recharging health. Scrunching his hands in the gravely red dirt, the Prince toughed through the rolls of ache and growing tickle in his throat. The only scent he could smell through his nostrils were smoke and fuel. Yet, despite his growing list of woes, Uldren felt determined more than ever to live.  </p>
<p>After a moment of rest, strength returning ever so slowly, the Prince stood to his feet. Glancing round about, he found himself deep inside a rocky cavern. Everything was the color of terracotta and a glacial chill hung in the air despite the lack of snow.</p>
<p>If he had to guess, Uldren believed himself to be on Mars.</p>
<p>Perhaps, more specifically, in Hellas Basin?  </p>
<p>“It was only a dream?” he thought to himself. “It felt so real. Uldren quieted, collecting his thoughts, as he searched for Mara’s presence in his mind. The place where she would have been was numb like a sleeping limb. There was nothing there save for an unnatural void. He felt lost and angry, but ultimately sad.</p>
<p>“Even if I can’t feel her presence anymore, I—I know she’s alive,” he told himself, working to soothe his ramping anxiety. “Even if it costs me my life, I’ll find Mara and stay by her side. Wish or no wish—it was just a stupid dream.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Curse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Destiny or any part of the franchise; all rights and ownership belong to Bungie.</p><p>A/N: This is Riven's curse.</p><p>Enjoy!</p><p>~ProphetessMinty</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Once Upon a Midnight Crow</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>(Part 2)</strong>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>While thou hast dreamed, I devoured and schemed</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For what thou desire, I willed to backfire</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As corruption is my way, it spelt thine own doomsday</em>
</p><p>
  <em>O Sleeper mine</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Thou believest the lie, and all went awry  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I said to speak plain, but my efforts were vain</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Here is mine own twist, a caveat, I insist</em>
</p><p>
  <em>O Sleeper mine</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Thou shalt not reach her side, whilst thou wrestle with pride</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thine old self must be forsaken, for the wish to awaken</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For whom is “her” to you who “were”?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>O Sleeper mine</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I have plans that require the Queen, big things that remain unseen</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until that timely reveal I will bestow an Achilles’ heel</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For thou art a thorn, I revile and scorn</em>
</p><p>
  <em>O Sleeper mine</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Since thou playest the part of obstruction, I wilt use mine darkest seduction</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thy fealty increasingly zealous will turn incredibly jealous  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When this curse comes full bloom, ye shall wreak havoc and doom</em>
</p><p>
  <em>O Sleeper mine</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Like a bird in the cage, penned up with rage</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thou wilt strain at the bars until ye have gone too far</em>
</p><p>
  <em>With a cry for mercy, ye speak controversy</em>
</p><p>
  <em>O Sleeper mine</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Thy misled vigor wilt not prevent sudden rigor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ye shall die a martyr’s death; now take a long, hard breath</em>
</p><p>
  <em>At the last word, all reason is blurred</em>
</p><p>
  <em>O Sleeper mine</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Thy station shall become deposed, as thy faults are ridiculed and exposed</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From prince to pauper, this may seem improper</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But true riches are not made from granting wishes  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>O Sleeper mine</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Destiny or any part of the franchise; all rights and ownership belong to Bungie.</p><p>A/N: ROFL okay, sooooo...when I first started writing for this theme I totally had something else in mind. Definitely was NOT intending to make this a 3 part story, haha. Honestly, "Once Upon A Midnight Crow" took on a life of its own. Like always, I write a lot more than I intend but perhaps that's a good thing?</p><p>Anyhow, the main character is Crow himself and a new Guardian character—Ashlynn—I dredged up from an old fanfic (my first Destiny fic that is) that I never posted. She actually inspired me to write my Holly Hawk story titled "The Light in Our Hearts". Who knows, maybe I'll post Ashlynn's story one day. Until then, you'll kind of get the gist of her character which is bold and feisty. </p><p>I definitely imply an old friendship with "The Guardian" (Roman from "A Different Morn") which you will come to read about.</p><p>Bits of lore have been sprinkled throughout this story as a whole and I hope you've had fun reading about their references. </p><p>Enjoy!</p><p>~ProphetessMinty</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Once Upon A Midnight Crow</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <b>(Part 3)</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <hr/>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Crow was deep in sleep when he woke to the raspy bark of Spider's voice as it carried down the hallway. The boiler to his left had long slipped into silence, no more rattles coming from its worn parts, allowing him to hear into the atrium if just a little. The room around him was humid and warm, causing him to feel a touch lethargic. He blinked several times, willing his eyes to see; the world around him going from blurry to focused. Suddenly, a second murmur broke in, one he did not fully recognize.</p>
  <p>What was going on? Was he missing something? Had the Baron called him and he simply did not wake?</p>
  <p>"Glint?" he mumbled quietly. The Crow was met with no reply and as he wrestled against an old foe called grogginess, he patted down his chest. Realizing there was no comfort of familiar external weight nor the cool sensation of metal to behold, the Awoken man found himself alone. Glint was not perched atop him as was the specter's usual habit and something about that fact made Crow nervous.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Really nervous.</p>
  <p>Where could he have gone?</p>
  <p>With a worried frown, Spider's humble enforcer sat up, and quickly probed the room under his citrine gaze. Though there was no staccato of electronic blips to soothe his mind, Crow called again, "Glint? Where are you?"  Pushing aside impulsive thoughts of the specter's sudden demise, The Crow sat up allowing his thin covers to fall into his lap.</p>
  <p>Shuffling quickly to his feet, Crow grabbed a handful of water from a nearby flask and splashed himself with it. As his face dripped with moisture, he ran wet fingers through his hair before laying it to the right. Snatching up his cowl, which sat atop his discarded boots, The Crow threw it on over his head while hopping into his shoes.</p>
  <p>Satisfied all was in order, Crow took to a Hunter's quiet stalk as he passed over the threshold of his humble abode and into the curved corridor beyond. Keeping alongside the hallway wall, he stopped at the bend and remained as still as a statue. From here he could see most everything, like the female Guardian standing in the center of the room. Beyond where she stood, one of the guards swayed at his post, clenching and unclenching his staff in clear anticipation. The only one he could not spy from the corridor was The Spider.</p>
  <p>As his citrine eyes took in the sight, they suddenly focused on a small, pink lotus-like ghost that bobbed in the air between both parties. The Crow shook his head, feeling pretty silly for worrying. He should have known that Glint was alright. Nevertheless, he was still very glad to find his companion well and out of harm's way.</p>
  <p>"I don't allow social visits, this isn't a local tavern where you can chitchat and idle for hours," Spider groused. "Not unless there's something in it for me. 'Time is glimmer' as they say. I'm sure your Guardian friend—Roman—told you my house rules regarding my...little bird." </p>
  <p>"Yes, he did," she answered in disgust. "Your...'rules'...are absurd. I could care less about who The Crow <em>was</em>.He's a different person now and has nothing to do with—"</p>
  <p>"Don't speak his name!" The Baron instantly yelled, his voice clicking with warning. After a moment of pause, he added, "You of all people know The Crow has everything to do with <em>him</em>. However, your and my opinions remain to be seen."</p>
  <p>The female Guardian said nothing as a royal blue pouch embroidered with snowflakes materialized into the palm of her hands. The Huntress' long maroon cloak swayed as she tossed the pouch in the air, caught it, and repeated the same process. As she did this, the contents rustled and crunched.</p>
  <p>"I keep The Crow under careful watch; constantly probing him...testing...him. From what I have gleaned, your statement might be true," the Eliksni sighed. "Nevertheless, my little bird is very much like those mines that <em>defect </em>Prison of Elder's Warden had you dismantling in the Reef. Given the right situation, The Crow might just...explode."</p>
  <p>"You don't know that," the Huntress said, catching the pouch. "The Crow deserves honesty, just like anyone else. Who knows, he could surprise you."</p>
  <p>"I—I agree with Ashlynn," Glint offered.</p>
  <p>"Quiet, little Lightmonger!" the Baron commanded snappily. Crow flinched upon hearing the verbal abuse like a blow had been dealt against him personally. He hated how the Spider talked to his friend—his family. If it was in his power, then Crow would shield Glint from all the disparaging remarks lobbed against him like a scapegoat.</p>
  <p>"It's the 'surprise' part I'm worried about," the Baron groused, a deep rumble in his voice. </p>
  <p>"Whatever, have it your way. I'm not here to get caught up in your politics anyhow," Ashlynn snapped. "I'm here because Roman couldn't be and he asked it of me. So call it what you'd like, a favor or an early Dawning gift, but I'm not leaving until I see The Crow." With a metaphorical heel dug into the dirt, Ashlynn rested a fist on her hip.</p>
  <p>Extending her left hand forward, she held out the pouch she had been tossing moments before. "Inside this bag are your 'Candy Dead Ghost' treats from Eva—which I baked myself—and I will hand them over on the grounds that I get to see The Crow like Roman asked of me. You get the sweets, I get to meet. Deal?"</p>
  <p>The Spider chuckled with deep guile, "Come, now. You assume too much. 'Giving' implies that I owe you something. And the Spider owes no one. What a petty trade you're proposing. How can you hold my present hostage when it was being freely given in the first place?"</p>
  <p>"Fine, I guess we're doing this the hard way," she said, folding her arms tight. "Name your price."</p>
  <p>"Since you're here in place of Roman—who I would love to see very, very soon as we have things to discuss—how about a <em>small</em> job?" the raspy Eliksni suggested. "A little hard work goes a long way with me. What say, you?"</p>
  <p>The Huntress laughed humorlessly, "Nothing you offer is <em>small</em>,Spider, especially when it comes to a job."</p>
  <p>"Perhaps," The Baron responded, annunciating the "s" like a hiss.</p>
  <p>Crow pictured the way his employer's claw might have waved in the air right about now, as if to shew the truth away. Though he had not found the opportunity to hear the story of his tarnished past, Crow often found himself slinking around in the shadows in hopes of one day discovering the details about the him-that-was-no-more.</p>
  <p>"Gimme' the dets so I can make up my mind," she drawled with a bored tone, "I don't have all day."</p>
  <p>Crow helplessly grinned to himself in response to the Huntress' cheeky personality. Her gumption was like a breath of fresh air as it seemed to rattle the Eliksni into a thoughtful quiet.</p>
  <p>"Careful who you talk to, Guardian," Spider breathed with ire. "They might have an itchy trigger finger."</p>
  <p>"I have one too," Ashlynn answered, patting the hand cannon on her hip.</p>
  <p>"You should really rethink your tactic, Guardian," a fourth voice suggested in a digital chirp.</p>
  <p>"Yes," the Baron chuckled, "listen to your wise ghost. And as you do, I'll explain the particulars. On your way in, I'm sure you got an eyeful of those pesky Wrathborn infesting my Shore. Since the Guardian has neglected his duties—which I've offered great reward—how about you fill in for him? Gun down those ragging monstrosities and <em>then </em>you'll get a little time with my prized bird."</p>
  <p>The Crow watched as the she-Guardian rubbed at her temples.</p>
  <p>"Here's my counter-offer," Ashlynn huffed. "I'll take on this Wrathborn Hunt personally and make it my job for—let's say the next two weeks—in exchange for an unspecified amount of time with the Crow. Additionally, while he and I are together, I'll train him for you."</p>
  <p>Crow's citrine eyes looked away as he leaned against the wall. A part of him felt frustration toward them for bartering him around like a play-thing; while the other, was quite honestly baffled.</p>
  <p>Who would want to spend time with him?</p>
  <p>More importantly, who is this Huntress?</p>
  <p>The Awoken man chewed his cheek, unsure of what to do. Yet, there was nothing he could do. All these things were out of his power. If only he could be free to do as he pleased, what a gift that would be. Suddenly, Spider burst out in greedy laughter startling Crow out of his thoughts.</p>
  <p>"Now <em>that</em> is quite the offer, Guardian," The Baron roared with giddy, glee. "One of Shaxx' finest Crucible players, training my Crow to use its talons. I relish the thought! The Dawning has finally eked out the best gift I could ever hope for."</p>
  <p>"I don't play anymore," Ashlynn corrected, her voice lowering with displeasure.</p>
  <p>"Not since your...Ace in the hole...brought down the house of cards. Am I right?" Spider poked.</p>
  <p>The Crow watched as the Huntress took a step forward, changing the dynamic in the room completely. Quickly, Spider's guards closed in, their staffs sparking electric blue as they formed a loose perimeter around their master. As Ashlynn took another step, both Glint and the unnamed specter pressed against her.</p>
  <p>"Don't do it, Guardian," Ashlynn's ghost warned. "It's not worth it."</p>
  <p>"You've gone quiet. Hive got your tongue?" Spider provoked.</p>
  <p>"Deal or no deal?" she growled, stepping back.</p>
  <p>"You've got yourself a deal. Now hand over those cookies. I can practically taste them already," Spider demanded. "Enjoy your audience the wind-blown trash."</p>
  <p>Realizing his time to snoop was up, The Crow walked backwards, taking great care to tread lightly. No one seemed to know that he was listening in on this secret trade and that was how he would like to have it. Once back in his room, the Awoken enforcer looked around unsure what to do with himself so he opted for a casual appearance.</p>
  <p>Walking briskly to the bench behind the boiler, he began fiddling with a nearby shotgun. As he leaned back against the table, he crossed his legs and opened up the barrel's chamber to check on the lead inside. The Crow knew it was loaded, but it was always good to check. While he feigned careful ministrations to his weaponry, the familiar chirps of a certain ghost called from the door.</p>
  <p>"Glint, I was wondering where you went off to." Looking up, Crow found Glint floating next to the unnamed ghost outfitted in a beat up, red crucible shell. Though both specters were an intriguing sight to behold, they were not half as interesting as the Guardian standing behind them. The shield of her helmet was ablaze like purple fire which melted away into sapphire transmatter revealing a delicate face underneath.</p>
  <p>"We have visitors, Crow. Don't forget to smile," Glint both greeted and advised.</p>
  <p>"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Crow, I'm Vigil. And this is my Guardian, Ashlynn," said the red ghost.</p>
  <p>Crow gave a slight nod, his eyes never leaving Ashlynn, whom he was quick to study. Her ashen hair was up and out of her face, loosely braided in a crown. Strands of hair curled around her ears and the base of her neck. She was a subtle charm until he noticed her striking, storm grey eyes full of courage.</p>
  <p>Deep inside, he felt rattled like he was being sized up. Her stare was full of question, wrestling with things he only assumed were elicited from her talk with Spider. As that discomfort blossomed in his chest, the Crow tugged at his cowl and brought it down a little more.</p>
  <p>"Greetings, Crow," Ashlynn nodded with stoicism. "I'm here on behalf of Roman to partake on this Wrathborn Hunt as you no doubt know."</p>
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  <p>"Do I?" The Crow asked coyly.</p>
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  <p>Ashlynn smiled wryly, "Trust me, I'm a Hunter like you. We both know the name of the game. The best kept secrets are the ones discovered in the dark."</p>
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  <p>Crow smirked ever so slightly as he locked the barrel in place and loaded the shotgun onto his back with a satisfying click. With the gun securely attached, Crow stood and went to meet his new "friends" at the door. "How do I know I can trust you?"</p>
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  <p>"Words are cheap," Ashlynn replied. "Let my actions do the talking."</p>
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  <p>"That sounds...wise," he said, arching a brow. "Go off galivanting about the Shore, hunting Wrathborn with some Guardian I just met. What kind of plan is this?"</p>
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  <p>The Huntress laughed and plucked Vigil—who involuntarily screeched with uncertain panic—out of the air. "Roman said you'd be a skeptic," she teased. Placing the specter into The Crow's hands, she grinned, "Here, hold my ghost then."</p>
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  <p>"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this," he worried, letting go of his impromptu hostage.</p>
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  <p>"Neither am I," Vigil screeched.</p>
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  <p>"Chicken," Ashlynn teased dryly.</p>
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  <p>"You're a strange one," The Crow professed. </p>
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  <p>"Not as strange as the vermin infesting the Shore," she said, suddenly serious. Ashlynn turned to leave, the gold trim of her blue and maroon gauntlets catching the light. The Crow was unsure why it caught his attention, but his eyes remained fixed on her pauldrons. "Make your choice Crow. Either stretch your wings out in the world with me at your side; or, remain locked in the cage. Either way, it's both a gift and a curse."</p>
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  <p>The Crow paused for a split second, then took a step forward wanting nothing more than to leave this place behind. As he did so, a familiar royal blue pouch with embroidered snowflakes was tossed at his chest. Quickly, he caught it against his breast and looked down totally bewildered. Right as he opened the bag and looked at the contents, his mouth began to water. He had never received a gift from anyone save for Glint.</p>
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  <p>"They're Bittersweet Biscotti," Ashlynn said, over her shoulder. "I wasn't sure what you'd like but, Merry Dawning."</p>
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  <p>"Thank you," he said softly. "Truly."</p>
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  <p>Though he had no real proof to go off of, the Crow believed that perhaps this unusual circumstance could make his dearest wish for freedom come true. The next two weeks would either make or break this current argument. Until the time was up, he would enjoy his unexpected gift. Plucking a cookie out of the bag, he took a bite, and regretfully realized it would not last him the next several minutes. </p>
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  <p>For the first time in forever, The Crow smiled and hoped that this was not a dream.</p>
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  <p>New things were coming on the tides of change and he would make sure to soar overhead.</p>
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  <p>Shoving the rest of the treat into his mouth, resolve mixing with his spirit, he ran after Ashlynn. </p>
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  <p>"Merry Dawning," he murmured.</p>
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